


confidence

by JeanSouth



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M, Multi, delinquent!au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-06
Updated: 2013-01-06
Packaged: 2017-11-23 22:03:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/626993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JeanSouth/pseuds/JeanSouth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They wouldn't be friends if he didn't trust Himuro.</p>
            </blockquote>





	confidence

**Author's Note:**

> no, i'm never going to be capable of multi-chapter fic or anything over the length of at most 2.5k. i am sorry.

It’s tuesday at twelve when Himuro walks through the door with a ridiculously tall guy behind him.

It’s weird when Himuro brings back a friend. Him and Himuro, they’ve been friends since way back when. Since back before everything happened, and they met and Himuro’s smile and outstretched hand brought him friendship.

They’re still friends when they go to high school together and people are racist little fucks, still friends the first time Kagami punches someone for making fun of him, and still friends when they start playing street ball for money and lose badly. They’d had one choice back then; fight or face painful defeat. They won.

He’s pretty sure their friendship became as close as brothers when after that, instead of streetball they spent their evenings picking fights with jackasses and honing their own skills. No one sees Himuro’s punches coming, and his reflexes are conditioned perfection with sharp hearing. Kagami has ridiculous strength in his legs and an animal instinct that keeps him safe. 

When they came back to Japan, it was the same, but the guys seemed smaller while the two of them stayed the same. It was in turns more brutal and less brutal, depending on what kind of gang they ran into. Kagami knows because they do it a lot.

And now, now Himuro’s taken the first step and brought a third guy home with him. In America they’d been fine together too, but they’d made friends who wanted to support and fight with them, and became a close group. Coming away from that, it’s hard not to see someone coming in as a replacement.

He’s seen the guy before, sure. He doesn’t talk to him much when Himuro first brings him home, and the guy leaves after they pick a fight. Himuro’s as tender as ever when they get home, and cleans up his split lip with stinging alcohol.

Kagami sees him again when he has lunch with Himuro the next day when the guy (and really, who has lavender hair?) comes up behind them and covers Himuro’s eyes. With quick reflexes, Himuro tries to jab an elbow into his assailant’s ribs, but all he finds in air. 

“Atsushi,” Himuro smiles when he stops being tense and looks up, taking ‘Atsushi’s’ hands from his eyes and telling him to sit down. He has a bag of sweet stuff in his arms and a sweet cherry gobstopper in his mouth. He offers Kagami a lollypop. It’s confusing.

They start to get along, and Himuro looks smug. Atsushi comes along for the night again.

“Fuckin’ hate guys like you,” Kagami says when he runs into one of the most vicious gang leaders he knows and takes a step back to avoid getting his nose broken by a large hand complete with knuckle dusters. He faints a step forward, and instead swiftly introduces his knee to Hanamiya’s junk. He doubles over coughing, and wheezes out a pissed order to get Kagami.

Himuro’s at his back within seconds, grabbing a guy coming at Kagami and using his momentum to make him smash into a brick wall. When he comes away, there’s blood. Towards the three of them, Hanamiya’s gang of seven outnumbers them pretty heavily, but if anyone thinks they come unprepared they’re idiots. 

“Himuro,” He calls out, tossing a bat with nails hammered into it as quickly as he can. A few of them scrape his chest, ripping his shirt and catching his skin. One of Hanamiya’s boys tries to steal the bat in mid-air, and for a second Kagami thinks he might actually get it. 

Out of nowhere, Atsushi’s (they’ve collectively decided they’re too lazy to call him Murasakibara, and Atsushi is okay with this) hand appears, taking the punk by the side of the head and follows it through to the ground. The bat reaches Himuro just fine, and he swings it into a good grip.

“Thanks,” Himuro says, all smiles and niceness with an undertone of the demon Kagami knows really lies under there. 

These guys though - Hanamiya, the people who follow him - they’re genuinely bad, and Kagami knows that. Usually, most of them fight and fight but they don’t do serious injury. At the end of the day, it’s letting out anger and frustration, but Hanamiya wants to ruin lives. After all, look at Kiyoshi. Kagami’s sort of pissed about it, because even if Kiyoshi’s a gang leader too, he makes his members go to school and do well and actually gives a shit.

It pisses him off to know a respected rival got ruined. It pisses Himuro off, too. And a part of him thinks that if they’re pissed off, it’s enough for Atsushi to want to go along with it.

“Fuckin’ hate guys like you,” Kagami repeats when he rips a guy away from Atsushi’s back and knees him in the stomach, tossing him to the side. From the corner of his eye, he sees Himuro take a kick to the ribs, but he can’t stop to go and help. A muffled curse reaches him before he sees Himuro recover and swing the bat, the dull crunch of at least a fractured shin. That’s one guy who isn’t getting up again today.

Hanamiya stands back though, like the fucking coward he is, and it riles Kagami up to the point where he can’t focus. His path is clear after he sweeps a guy’s feet out from under him and watches him plummet to the floor, so he takes the chance and rushes Hanamiya, noticing a second too late that, oh yeah, the kind of guy to bring a knife to a fist fight.

“I don’t think so,” Atsushi says though, leaning over him just as the knife grazes his chest and makes a shallow cut only through flesh. Atsushi’s hands are big, he notices, when they envelop the wrist holding the knife and twist with a sadistic sort of glee. Until this point. Atsushi had fought more defensively. In a way, he supposes this could count as defensive.

He grinds the bones together though, even after a snap that makes Kagami a little bit sick, until Hanamiya cries and falls to his knees and drops the knife. Atsushi lets go. They go home.

“Well done,” Himuro praises them when they get through the door. Kagami’s shirt is ruined, but all three of them take it them off regardless of their states. His own chest has a long, shallow cut that’s still sluggishly leaking blood the way shallow cuts do, and Himuro has a giant bruise already starting to bloom prettily.

“Looks painful, Muro-chin,” Atsushi murmurs quietly while he unearths the compresses and lets Kagami get hot water and a bottle of vodka to disinfect any cuts. He’s the only one without leftover wounds, a clear sign of how good he is at fighting defensively. “I’ll take care of it.”

He does while Kagami takes puts some water on to boil and gathers a few cloths and bandages straight from the dryer. Besides compresses, Atsushi takes it on himself to bandage Himuro. Finally, he puts a band aid on the corner of his mouth where there’s a tiny, painful split. He presses a small kiss to it, and ruffles Himuro’s hair. 

The kettle boils with hot water, and Kagami tips it into a large bowl, throwing in a bit of cold water to cool it down. He dips in a rag, intending to clean it when one pair of hands takes the rag, and another dips in another rag, taking over the task.

“Kaga-chin’s looks more painful,” Atsushi remarks, and Kagami wonders why the nickname doesn’t bother him. The two of them start from opposite ends, clearing up the blood and making sure there’s no shrapnel in the wound. It hurts a little, but he’s used to it.

“Taiga can handle it,” Himuro answers for him, and he nods. They’re quiet until it’s clean, and Himuro tips the bottle of vodka a little to get some on a clean washcloth. He hates this part, it stings and it hurts and he doesn’t want it. “But he’s a little pathetic sometimes.”

Kagami sits still for the disinfecting because of the remark, and Atsushi’s hands come up to pet his hair and face, poke curiously at his eyebrows. It’s a pleasant distraction. The two of them work together to bandage it fairly tightly after putting some ointment on it, and Atsushi rubs a little ointment on a scratch on his jaw with delicate fingers. He presses a kiss to that, too, and he’s really too tired to argue about it if Himuro wants to bring a guy home that’s that free with his kisses.

“Thanks,” He says in the end instead, leaving all of the used supplies in the living room to guide them both into the bedroom with a hand on their wrists. He collapses onto the bed first, facedown and sprawled like a starfish. Himuro shoves him onto his back and sprawls facedown instead, resting his head on Kagami’s bandages. For a second he wonders if Atsushi is going to feel awkward before the bed dips on to the other side of him.

He’s on his side and hooks one leg over Kagami’s hips, and reaches over to tangle his fingers in Himuro’s hair. A check of the clock says it’s gone past three am, and he’s really not in the mood to protest being a human teddy. The other two are already asleep, so he foregoes pretending to dislike it and fluffs his pillow.

Himuro always makes the right choice.


End file.
